


Not the Only One

by mccm



Category: American Horror Story: Asylum, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Master of Death Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 10:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13362285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mccm/pseuds/mccm
Summary: If Briarcliff had the children’s ward, guess who would be its resident?





	Not the Only One

**Author's Note:**

> This story was one of my attempts in writing, originally posted on FFN almost three years ago under the same username.  
> The characters and storyline belong to their rightful owner.

 

The Briarcliff Asylum was the only one asylum in the area. It was run by the respectable, strict woman named Jude, or Sister Jude as she was called. All of the female staffs were sisters as well, so you could say Sister Jude had a lot of underlings sisters. One of them, the most favored one (if a bit annoyingly innocent) was Sister Mary Eunice.

 

The Briarcliff was specialized in the adult mental sickness. Though their adult ward did not have too many patients, the number was still high compared to the children’s ward.

 

Yes, Briarcliff had a children’s ward, although there were only a handful of children resided in.

 

The firsts to reside here were twins; Irene and Angela Cole. They were nine but their parents believe them to have mental problems. They couldn’t talk properly; only tidbits of words that sometimes not linked enough to make sense. Their parents, being both farmers, did not have patience enough to deal with them with their works at hand, so they left the twins here, promised they will come back to get them as soon as they improved.

 

Sister Jude tried to reason with them that Briarcliff did not have the children’s ward and not suitable for children. She told them, politely of course, that they should try to find a right teacher that could teach the children, not dumping them at the asylum, but the parents did not listen; saying they believed the power of God could help their daughters.

 

And that was the beginning of the Children’s ward at Briarcliff Asylum.

 

Since then, only two girls and a boy came.

 

They came in on separated occasions, but only three weeks apart from each other.

 

One of the girls, Maree Smith, aged 14, was admitted by the police and her distraught father. The teen was listening to her teacher’s lecture when suddenly she snapped, grabbed a X-acto blade that she was supposed to use for her crafting project, and slit it through her unlucky classmates’ throats before they managed to get a hold of her. She was able to give her teacher a nasty scar that started above his right eye and dragged to his chin before she was put down by the police. Maree had no memory of the incident and appeared to be frightened when she was interrogated and was swallowed by her own guilt when the police proceed to tell her what she had done. She closed herself in guiltiness, and barely spoke to anyone. Being a minor, Maree was not executed, but sent to Briarcliff, thus being their third patient of the children’s ward.

 

The other girl, twelve-years-old Sophie Crawford, was also brought here by her parents. Her mother told the staff that Sophie had a problem controlling her emotions, especially anger. She had always been a quiet child when her temper tantrums started out of nowhere at the age of nine. At first, they thought she just needed attention, being the middle child of the family. But Maree’s actions continued to get more and more violent. When the girl tried to strangle her younger brother because he asked if she wants to play with him, the father put his foot down. And that was it. She became the fourth girl.

 

Last but not least, the only boy resided at the Briarcliff; Harry Potter. He had a tragic life, being an orphan; his parents and their friends were killed in front of him when he was three and the murderers were still on the loose. Though his relatives, his aunt and her husband to be exact, dumped him here when he was seven; claiming that he was ‘possessed’.

 

Sister Jude was not impressed.

 

They told her vaguely about his ‘freakish behaviors’ and ‘funny business’, then left without saying goodbye to the small boy.

 

Oh, Harry was small indeed. Small, shy, sweet and kind boy he was. Jude had never been angrier when the nurse informed her of his malnutrition and battered body, and not forgot to mention that he was very obedient; gladly do everything she asked him to. No, there was no sign of demon possession at all. The matron did not believe her nurse right away, of course, but after weeks of observing the boy’s behavior, she also agreed that he was not possessed.

 

At the Briarcliff, children’s ward were more like an everlasting summer camp with accommodations than a place that could cure or help children cope with their mental issues. The treatments, if they ever _did_ anything to ease the children’s illness, in the children’s ward were a lot milder than ones in the adult ward, and there were very light physical punishments; only spanking for one of the girls once in a while, nothing more than that. Every staff was more kind and patient around children. The facilities were also better than the adult ward. The children’s ward was easier to manage too, with only five patients currently resided.

 

It also helped that the children got along so well, especially if Harry was around. The twins would not fuss if Harry was there to read children fairytale books for them. Maree willingly spoke a bit more if Harry was the one with whom she conversed. And Sophie was a little less _angry_ when Harry was in her sights. No need to say how much the staff loved having the boy in the common room, not that he had elsewhere to go other than the dining hall since children were not required to do the chore and rarely allowed outside.

 

And that, combined with him being the most ‘normal’ child, not to mention the only boy, in the ward, everyone adored him to pieces.

 

Sister Jude would never admit out loud, even if it was very clear, that she had a soft spot for the boy.

 

All was well at the Briarcliff, or at least in the children’s ward.

 

All was well... until Jed Potter was brought in.

 

* * *

 

 

“Harry,” Irene the twins called when the boy in questions suddenly stopped reading, “Harry, read.” She shook his arms lightly.

 

“Sorry,” Harry said softly to the girl, his mind clearly wandered elsewhere.

 

“Irene.” Angela scolded her sister, “Can’t. Feel. Black shadow?” She struggled to complete the sentence. But that was enough for Harry to understand what she was trying to say.

 

His green eyes sharply snapped to stare into Angela’s pale blue ones.

 

“You feel the black shadow?” He softly inquired. Angela nodded.

 

“Big. Shadow.” She said in a serious voice, “Very big…”

 

“Really?” Harry gave her a small smile and ruffled her hair gently, “Now, continue reading, shall we?”

 

The girls nodded furiously. The subject of black shadow slipped of Angela’s mind as soon as Harry’s soothing voice picked out where he left off.

 

“And there comes the great dragon fire…”

 

* * *

 

Jed Potter was, just like the other Potter child resident, also claimed to be a victim of possessing.

 

But his parents’ claim was unfortunately not void like Harry’s relatives’.

 

His behaviors spoke clearly enough for themselves and were starkly different from Harry’s.

 

Absentmindedly, Jude did not know how to tell his parents about his soon-to-come fate. The boy was too far gone with clammy, sweat stricken, pale skin. She watched in horror as his blood veins bulged and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets when his body snapped in a way human should not be able to.

 

The lights flickered. Cruel laugh ringing in her ears. Devilish yellow eyes seemed to stare right into her soul.

 

Thredson was frantically trying to inject yet another sedative into the boy’s vein, mumbling words about ‘cardiac arrest’. The Monsignor was on his knee beside the bed, trying to restrain as the boy arched from the bed.

 

“Sister Jude!” She snapped towards Sister Mary Eunice’s panic voice. “Trouble in the ward!”

 

Just as Mary Eunice finished her sentence, the inhuman gurgled scream rang through the door.

 

“He’s in cardiac arrest.” Thredson said then proceeded to do the CPR.

 

“What…” Jude rushed to open the door and stepped inside with Sister Mary Eunice unconsciously followed after her.

 

The doctor was pumping Jed’s chest, hard and fast. Her eyes could only follow the way his body rise and fall to the push.

 

Howard started to pray but she could not focus on his sound.

 

 _Thump._ Rise.

 

 _Thump._ Fall.

 

 _Thump._ Rise.

 

 _Thump._ Fall.

 

 _Thump._ Rise.

 

 _Thump._ Fall.

 

 _Thump._ Gasps!

 

She snapped out of her trance when the body arched off the bed, with Jed’s final gasp of breaths, before falling limply.

 

She felt so numb. So very helpless.

 

“He’s dead,” Thredson breathily declared.

 

The cross fell to the ground, and with it; Sister Mary Eunice.

 

“Sister,” she gasped out.

 

Thredson rushed to Sister’s fallen form.

 

The Monsignor was still on his knee, his head solemnly bowed.

 

Jed Potter’s body laid there lifelessly, eyes wide open.

 

* * *

 

Harry Potter’s greenest green eyes were wide opened. He was lying on his fairly comfortable bed, staring at the ceiling.

 

He couldn’t sleep.

 

The black shadow that graced the asylum sometime during the day was the reason he couldn’t even close his eyes; his instinct and magic were running wild, telling him to get rid of the trespassing tainted soul.

 

Oh, Harry may appear to be an innocent, harmless boy, but deep inside he knew he was far from that sentiment.

 

In his current life, he was born to Madeline and Brian Potter, as amusing in the way he was named with his first life’ name by his parents, it brought its infamous unlucky bits too.

 

Madeline and Brian Potter looked nowhere similar to his first life’s parents; they both had dark hair, light tan skin, and dark eyes. They looked absolutely normal in every single way you can imagine. They lived a simple life in some middle of nowhere town, where the town was so small everyone knew each other and where the church was taken very seriously among the villagers. They ran the _only_ bakery in town, which meant they knew literally _everyone_.

 

His parents were good believers; they went to church every Sunday and did all things considered good for Christians. When Harry came into their life, they missed the Sunday prayers for a big while then went back to the same routine with Harry in their arms.

 

But Harry had always been an extraordinary child comparing to his simple parents, with all the memories of previous lives he had liven, he couldn’t bring himself to cried and throw a temper tantrum like children his age did. He listened to reasons and nodded in understanding even if things didn’t come to his liking. He was the quiet Potter boy at the bakery shop; always there, smiled shyly from behind the counter.

 

In this life, he was considered a beautiful child; with midnight black hair that seemed to absorb every light shone its way, pale unblemished skin, sharp features on his face and the greenest green eyes that shone every time he smiled...

 

He was beautiful. And he looked absolutely nothing like his parents.

 

That raised some questions among families and friends, and some gossips from some acquaintance, but that did not stop his parents from loving him, for that he was grateful. They loved him simply and unconditionally. They loved him until their very last breathe.

 

It happened when he was three. It was Madeline’s idea of throwing a birthday party for Harry, which all of their close friends agreed to come. They had just finished cutting the cake and were about to open the first present when the loud bangs and screams were heard through the whole town.

 

It happened so fast that Harry did not have time to react, one minute his dad was telling them to be quiet and moved to see where the sound was coming from, the next their front door was kicked open with another loud bang.

 

Then _BANG BANG_ , his father was down.

 

His mother screamed – BANG – her scream was cut off.

 

His parents’ friends moved towards the murderer, a war cry spelling from their mouths – BANG BANG BANG BANG – they were done.

 

The murderer’s gun finally shuffled to between his eyes. Harry looked at him with blank unblinking eyes that seemed to unnerve the murderer, for he just knocked Harry out and didn’t kill him.

 

He was later found by the police, buried the pile of dead bodies. He was so still that the police thought he was dead and almost gave up their hope for any survivors.

 

Apparently, this action was done by the group of thieves; their main goal was the gold and money inside of the banks, just across the street from his bakery home.

 

His family and friends were just unfortunate for being there.

 

Harry did not say anything when he was sent to be in his relatives’ care. He did not say anything when they accused him of being a demon’s child that got his parents’ killed on his own birthday. He did not say anything when his relatives started to grow weary of him and his ‘freakish’ behavior. He did not complain when they couldn’t stand him being under the same roof with them and dumped him at the Briarcliff.

 

Actually, he was somewhat relieved, because a little longer under their care, he would eventually snap.

 

The police never caught the murderers. The detective had even called and apologized profusely that he couldn’t bring his parents' justice.

 

Harry couldn’t care less. He had already dealt with the murderers; of course, the police would not be able to find them. Or their burial site, for the matter. 

 

That also went to the lists of things he did not and would not tell a soul from this world. 

 

Being in Briarcliff might not be a leisure walk in the garden, but it was definitely not a struggle life like the one he had had with the Dursley, too. He was adored and cared for to some certain levels. The Sisters here were all kind and never hurt a whim of his hair. Other staffs were also easy to deal with when they were all under his charms, even the head matron; Sister Jude. She reminded him of Minerva, albeit more strict, unyielding, dark and Slytherin version of the woman.

 

Thinking of Minerva, he considered transforming into his animagus form just to be able to see what’s happening now with the entrance of the 'black shadow'.

 

The lights flickered. Once, twice. Then it was gone.

 

Harry sat straight when his room was covered in the dark for a mere second before the red lights of emergency bulbs started working.

 

Distantly, he heard a scream; an inhuman and blood freezing one.

 

He heard light footsteps moving toward his door and curled up all his magic, ready to strike uninvited guest.

 

His door knop was turned slowly and the door cracked open slower.

 

Angela stood behind the door, her hand clutched Irene’s tightly.

 

“Harry,” she said with a wavering voice. He could see a beginning of tears forming in her blue eyes. “Stay. With. You?”

 

Harry stared for a second, still not moving. Irene’s muffled sobs were all he heard when Maree joined them in front of his door, still in her nightgown. She looked uncertain and frightened.

 

They all jumped with Sophie’s scream cut through the pregnant silence. Harry nodded, and all the girls all but stumbled on to his bed. Maree turned to lock the door with quivering hands and looked at him uncertainly. Harry nodded again, approving the action; he had not yet gained full control Sophie’s violate actions, so it might be the best to lock them in. He waved his hand to strengthen the lock, and signal her to join him with the girls on his bed.

 

The screaming from the adult ward was heard far away, but there must be some sort of commotions there. Sophie’s scream did not stop, she was now shouting about how it was unfair that her parents left her here while her siblings could stay with them.

 

With the twins snuggled to his sides and Maree placed her head on his lap, Harry started ran his hand through Irene’s hair gently and sighed.

 

It was going to be a long night.

 

* * *

 

  

One of the sisters had a mind to check them somewhere after midnight.

 

Harry was already snoozing by the time she came, trying to open the door. But when she peeked through the window part of the door and saw a slumping pile of three girls and Harry, she just hummed and left.

 

Harry vaguely noted that Sophie had been quiet for some time now, and fallen back to sleep.

 

The next morning was not so bright though. Even the children noticed the way all the staffs were tense and tended to stay in their group, whispering about something that did not reach Harry’s ears.

 

Angela still mumbled about the shadow in the morning. Irene apparently did not want to hear her sister talking about it, so the two girls started screaming at each other. Their scream mostly came out as gibberish though. Now the twins were separated to different sides of the playroom by one of the staff. So everything was nice and quiet.

 

Maree stayed closed to Harry all the time and he did not feel annoyed about that. She also avoided having an eye contact with Sophie for some reason that she refused to tell him.

 

As for Sophie; the girl was more agitated than her usual grumpy self. She snapped at the staff couples of time and sent a nasty glare at Irene once in a while, but at least she did not start another screaming fist.

 

The lunch uneventfully passed by. Angela and Irene were over their little mood and patched up to each other as soon as they were told to get out of their corner. Maree ate quietly with Harry on her side. Sophie stabbed her vegetable fiercely, grumbling under her breathe for the whole lunch time.

 

They went back to the common room and settled back to doing nothing.

 

After a couple of months with these girls, Harry noticed that they were very sensitive to supernatural related things; they could feel his magic in the way regular children couldn’t.

 

Angela was the most sensitive among all of the girls. She once said that his magic felt like a warm blanket, well, she did not say it in a complete sentence, but that was what Harry could understand.

 

Maree was the second, but she was less talkative when it came to this subject. She would just scoot a little closer to him. Harry suspected that she might not be the one responsible for killing her classmates; she just did not have a mean bone. He thought ‘something’ had used her body to do the crimes but the girl kept her mouth shut and shook her head furiously every time he asked, so he could not really do anything about it.

 

Irene and Sophie were in the same par. They were less sensitive than the other two, but they could still feel and react when something supernatural happened. Irene usually followed her twin while Sophie tended to react violently like what she did last night.

 

Harry’s muse was interrupted by the entrance of Sister Mary Eunice.

 

Harry could feel it immediately. Something was _wrong_ with Mary Eunice.

 

He could hear Angela’s whimpers from somewhere on his left before the girl ran straight to him, her sister in tow. Maree slowly got up from the reading table and moved toward Harry, too. Sophie, on the other hand, stood her ground but eyed the sister warily.

 

The blond sister looked rather surprised by their reaction, but then she pulled up her smile quickly and crossed the room slowly. She kept her eyes on Angela with a gleam that did not feel right on her face.

 

Harry had his magic tensed and ready to strike if she dare to do  _anything_.

 

Mary Eunice just petted Irene’s hair; the gesture that Harry saw her did for thousands of time but never had it seemed so _wrong_.

 

“Sister Jude told me that the weather this afternoon is quite nice. So you’re allowed to play outside if you want.”

 

Usually, when they were allowed to play outside, the twins would go frenzy with excitement, but today they just cuddled him more and not let go.

 

The sister’s smile strained.

 

“I think all of us will stay indoor today, Sister,” Harry told her softly and met her eyes unfazed when she turned to look at him. “The twins are still shaken from the event last night. Maree and I have books we want to read. And I think the same goes for Sophie, right?”

 

Sophie mumbled her yes, quickly averted her gaze to the wall when Mary Eunice looked at her.

 

“So I guess we are alright here, sister. Thanks for telling us anyway.”

 

The blond said nothing. She eyed the twins, then Maree and Sophie before turned to smile warmly _(-wrong-)_ at Harry one last time before she left.

 

Something was terribly wrong with Sister Mary Eunice.

 

And Harry had a hunch that Angela’s ‘Big Black Shadow’ played some part it this.

 

* * *

 

Jenny Reynolds was the latest addition to the Briarcliff’s children’s ward.

 

No need to say that she received an immensely warm welcome from the girls.

 

The twins screamed when they saw her (and rushed to bury themselves to Harry’s sides.)

 

Maree refused to be in the same room with the girl.

 

Sophie splashed her drinking water at her when she attempted to start a conversation with the teen at lunch.

 

Jenny, in her soaking dress, was clearly not amused. She did not retaliate but the way she stared at Sophie promised that the older girl would surely pay for it.

 

Harry did not like that her stare at all; it reminded him too much of Bellatrix silently plotting her evil plans.

 

* * *

 

 

She smirked as she watched Jenny walked out of the kitchen with a sharp kitchen knife hidden under her skirt. The girl was so easy to manipulate that she felt like laughing. Jenny Reynolds’ mind was so fucked up and twisted. She only needed a little bit of push then she easily broke.

 

The girl ranted on and on about a girl that she knew the girl had killed and about the infuriating chit with a ginormous anger issue, Sophie. Her eyes almost lit up when one interesting idea came up; oh she couldn’t wait to see how creative Jenny can get with a knife.

 

She smirked deviously and continues chopping the herbs. She could almost sing when thought about the mayhem that little girl could cause.

 

Suddenly the kitchen went cold. She could feel the staring on the back of her head that prompted her to growl lowly.

 

The stare had started since the first week that she possessed Mary Eunice. She felt the stare everywhere no matter what she did. But when she turned to look, there would be nothing.

 

She would not let it slid easily this time, though.

 

Sister Mary Eunice tightened her hand on the handle of the knife, continued the chopping motion if a bit tense; waiting for the moment to attack.

 

Then something moved at the far right side of the room. She struck.

 

The blond sister’s eyes widened when the knife stopped in the middle of the air. She moved her hand up and was about to attack the shadow when she found she could not move.

 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You don’t know what you’re dealing with, darling.” The deep velvet voice tickled her ears.

 

“What are you? What do you want?” The sister gritted out. The room dimmed out and all she could see was a pair of glowing green eyes in the darkness.

 

“Now, now, don’t be so harsh, demon.” The voice chuckled, “It seems like you have been busy in this past month, yeah? Creating mayhem here, killing someone there, what a busy life you have.”

 

“Show yourself!”

 

“I’m already in front of you." Green eyes narrowed like the owner was smiling at her.

 

“Release me, and we’ll see what I can do with you, you fuckers!”

 

“Aw, such a language…”

 

“What are you!? An angel?”

 

“No, not really.” She was so frustrated by the smile in that voice. But then the next sentence turned her blood cold in a second.

 

“You are not the only demon reside here, you know.”

 

What. The demon inside her almost gave her a heart attack if it could. Why she didn’t feel anything if there were another demon here. She always thought she was the only one around the area, but apparently, she was wrong. And judging by the way the other demon controlled her completely, it must be really powerful.

 

“Earth to Sister Mary Eunice. Earth to Sister Mary Eunice.” She snapped out of the frantic thoughts when the voice called out teasingly, “Lost in thoughts?”

 

“Who are you? What do you want from me?” She growled, not liking the way the other had more control to this situation at all.

 

“Why would I tell you and ruin all my fun, hmm?” The other chuckled. Its green eyes were sparkling in the dark. “We will meet again soon, Sister Mary Eunice. Have fun.”

 

Have fun. The voice echoed in the dark a couple of times, then the green eyes were gone. Sister Mary Eunice came back to the kitchen once again.

 

“Sister Mary Eunice!”

 

She startled and turned to see a boy standing next to her, the place where Jenny stood, too.

 

“Harry,” She breathed out, trying to calm her racing heart and mind. “What are you doing here?”

 

Harry looked at her and handed out a knife, the very same knife that she had just given to Jenny Raynolds.

 

“I found this in the hallway, so I brought it back here.” He explained.

 

Her brows furrowed at the explanation. That little chit Raynolds must have dropped it on her way out, she thought and nodded absentmindedly, accepted the knife from the boy.

 

Harry Potter, the most normal child here in Briarrcliff, was a child that she knew all about him but felt like she did not at the same time. The boy was so detached. He kept a politely distant away from every staff. He was quiet and always stood in the background. She could not read his expression or guess his next move. That’s why she hated being with the boy; he provoked her paranoid side even if she saw no danger coming from him. The boy, to put it simply, was weird.

 

“Thank you, Harry,” Mary Eunice said slowly, “Now, why don’t you go back to the dining room? It’s almost lunch.”

 

“Of course, sister.” He smiled. “I’ll see you at lunch.”

 

“See you.” She replied as he swept through the kitchen entrance. Her mind went back to thinking about ‘the other demon’.

 

She must do something about this, but her mind came up with nothing. And she didn’t like that at all.

 

* * *

 

 “We will meet again soon.” He smiled, “Demons can die, after all.”

 

* * *

 

The first thing she did when the Briarcliff was in her hand and Jude had been taken care of was asking for the permission to shut the children’s ward down.

 

She hated children. Children were sensitive to her kinds, all angels, and demons; they had pure souls that feel things more than adults’.

 

Especially the ones they had here at Briarcliff. It had been months but the damn twins still cringed away from her presence, the mute girl avoided her like a plague, that harpy of a girl gave her nasty glares and words every time she got too close.

 

Jenny had been removed from the Briarcliff by her mother, the same one that left her here. Mary Eunice never got another opportunity to be alone with the girl again, so she did not really know what the girl’s thinking. But before she left, she sent her an innocent smile that she was not supposed to have with all the dark and twisted thoughts she had. It left Mary Eunice curious and wondered.

 

The boy was still a mystery to her, and she hated that she could do nothing about it.

 

The church did not approve her request and neither did the Monsignor.

 

She must find some way to fix that.

 

The twins started their screaming contest again.

 

She must find _a way_. Soon.

 

* * *

 

The boy glanced up from his journal, (Frank, one of the guards, gave it to him when he saw Harry loved drawing) and looked back down as if he didn’t see her. But she knew that he acknowledged her presence from the first night that she was invited here.

 

“Hello, my Master.” She said quietly and moved closer to him when he didn’t stop sketching on the journal.

 

She waited for him to finish his piece of work, meanwhile looking for some changes that happened to him during the time they had been separated.

 

Harry grew, which was a normal thing for a child to be, but she knew he would never grow tall and bulky; he had never had that type of body, he had always been small.

 

His hair was black in this life, which was a pity, his startling green eyes - that never change no matter what form he took - were a good match with his golden blonde hair in his latest life. Still, she loved his hair black like this, reminded her of the first time they met.

 

She was fond of him, all the reapers were; no one could escape Harry’s charms, even Death himself.

 

His sketching stopped. Harry put the pencil down and peered at his work of art.

 

She could see that it was a portrait of a man in the guard uniform.

 

“Shachath,” The boy called with his velvet voice that sent shivers down her spine. It had been a long while since someone called her by her name in any other context than to summon her. “It has been so long.”

 

“Yes, my little Master, so long.” She agreed.

 

“You couldn’t imagine how surprised I was when I feel one of the reapers are here.” He said with a small smile.

 

“I was summoned by one of the patients, Master.” He accepted her explanation with a nod and a hum.

 

“I believe you have already met the demon, yes?” Harry started once again.

 

“Yes, Master.” She bowed her head, then proceed to tell him more about the demon. “She is one of my kinds, sir. She technically is my cousin.”

 

“Oh?”

 

“A sad, dark, fallen one. We diverted our paths long ago but the fact stands, she is my cousin.”

 

“She has been trying to manipulate me.” The boy mused out loud, “She did get my friends killed though. Sophie and Angela died a week before you came.”

 

Yes, she knew about the girls. Her cousin was known for her hatred for children. Shachath was not surprised to hear that she killed two, if anything, the fact made her felt even more sorry for her cousin.

 

The other twin, Irene, was due tomorrow. She could not live without the other part of her soul that had been her sister.

 

“Couple nights ago, she also killed Frank.” He continued, his fingers lingered on his portrait of the said man. “He was a nice guy, at least to me.”

 

“And now she got Sister Jude thrown into the madhouse, too. Judy is always good to me, she somehow reminds me of Minerva, my old professor, you know.”

 

She did not know what to say, so she wisely kept her mouth shut.

 

“I kind of like it here, actually. I have friends and the staffs here have never hurt me.” He looked at her directly in the eyes. “And then your _cousin_ decided to waltz in, causes difficulties and changes _everything_.”

 

There was a pregnant pause then he said;

 

“Now she finally managed to get the children’s ward shut down. My friends and I have to leave here in two weeks. My friends go to their family when I go to mine…”

 

She winced. Harry’s relatives in this life were almost as bad as his first life’s aunt and uncle.

 

“It is only for the fact I know that her time is coming that keeps me from getting my hands on her,” he clasped his hands gently on the table. “I believe you’re the one who is in charge of her soul. Am I correct?”

 

She nodded, though she knew that he did not need her confirmation; he already knew that.

 

“Shachath. I want to ask you a favor.” Harry smiled, and it was not a nice, warm smile that he usually had; it was cold, cruel, and bloodthirsty, and it made her shiver, this time with fear.

 

“Yes, Master.” She could not refuse him even if she wanted to. None of the reapers can. 

 

“When your cousin’s time comes, I want to be there, and have some moments with her before you sent her soul off to hell.” He said, “I don't mind if you want to be there with her.”

 

“Of course, Master, anything you want.” She replied. “Though, I would like to decline your generous offer of being present; I would never want to… intrude.”

 

“Good. I’ve already talked to Death and he agreed so don’t worry about any punishment from him; there will be none.”

 

For the first time, Shachath felt pity for her dark and fallen cousin.

 

One should never cross with the Master of Death.

 

“Yes, Master.”

 

* * *

 

The Monsignor.

 

That son of a bitch.

 

She should have killed him when she got a chance.

 

Now she could not think of anything.

 

She fell, fell, and fell.

 

She felt a wheeze of air left her lungs when she hit the ground, felt the bones crushed into pieces, piercing the internal organs.

 

And it hurt - it hurt so fucking bad.

 

The grip she held on the sister's conscious loosened for a second of the impact, and within a blink, Mary Eunice fled to the forefront of her mind.

 

She saw her hated cousin crept out from the shadow and felt the panic rose. No! She did not want to die. Not yet!

 

“Take me.” The stupid sister said.

 

No. No. No.

 

“I take both of you.” Came Shachath’s softly reply.

 

No. No! She must find a way -

 

The angel’s lips were on the sister’s, and that moment she felt the pull.

 

NO!

 

She fought the pull with the best she had but it was powerful - unnaturally so. She could only withstand for seconds before it ripped her off Mary Eunice’s body.

 

The pull paused the exact moment that her soul left the body, and she took that opportunity to struggle free from her cousin’s grasp.

 

Shachath let her. She fell on her back and with a triumphant cry, she scrambled to her legs.

 

Only to turn and face a pair of glowing green eyes.

 

“You!” She all but screamed. Then she felt the power washed over her, petrified her in a breathe. She could not move a single inch.

 

“Hello, demon.” The boy greeted. “We finally meet. Again.”

 

She thrashed, fighting the power that held her in place, but to no avail.

 

“Don’t bother, demon. You cannot fight the Death.” The boy said in a sing-song voice, "Nobody can." He added with a sweet smile.

 

“But you are not the Death!” She protested, “ _She_ is.” Shachath was the Death, not some ungrateful little brat!

 

“Oh, you don’t know your cousin very well, do you?” He continued. Green eyes glowing more and more.

 

“Shut up, you brat!”

 

“Aw, look at you. Trying to intimidate me with your little spats.”

 

“Fuck you!”

 

“Now,” Harry snapped his fingers. The entrance hall of Briarcliff dissipated from existence. The darkness descended from nowhere and surrounded her from every way. “We have a tight schedule to fit. I say we start now, shall we?”

 

She found herself could not make any sound.

 

No! No! NO!

 

“Tell me, demon.” Suddenly, the glowing green eyes were so close to hers, “Have you ever heard of this, I believe Sister Jude said it once; If you look in the face of evil, the evil is going to look right back at you.”

 

“And if,” The boy continued, “you look in the eyes of the Death, the Death-”

 

SNAP SNAP

 

“-is going-”

 

SNAP SNAP

 

“-to look-”

 

SNAP

 

“-right back-”

 

SNAP

 

“-at you.”

 

SNAP

 

“I have already warned you, demon. You are not the only one here. You should heed my warning and stay away from this place but you didn't. Now you're paying the price.”

 

SNAP

 

“Oh, seems like I forgot to lift the silencing spell?”

 

And then she could only scream.

 

* * *

 

 


End file.
